Seasons of rain
by Luna Ardere
Summary: This is a continuation of the stories about Jah'ren, the troll hunter, and his friends. It was written as a prize for the winner of my quiz, but I'm afraid it might turn into a mini-series eventually. Also apprearing is Za'rhin and the priest Ba'ka
1. Where we find you

**This is the story that was requested from me from the winner of my Lore-quiz, Terra-chan. But I am afraid this is just the first part of it. I didn't think I would write more than something short, but it seems Jah, Za'rhin and Ba'ka will be ... convincing me... to make a short series about the time they spent together serving the Horde. Hope you enjoy this small beginning.**

***

The rain was pummelling down over the battlefield, causing even the scavenging birds to find cover.

On one side of the valley there were lights in the lumbermills and farms where the victorious side had roof over their heads to keep them out of the rain. The alliance troops sat snug and warm inside, taking care of their wounded and dying. Outside their enemy, or what little was left of them, had scattered and disappeared in the grey fog of rain and evening.

Under a huge pinetree a priest was watching the rain in silent apprehension, while his cloak slowly was dyed in dark shades of the water that found its way between thick branches. He shivered and lifted his hands for a moment, creating a shield around his body that would grant him a moment of dry comfort.

As the shield faded the branches in front of him were pulled apart as a slim figure, his clothes dripping with water, crawled into the shelter of the tree.

"Ah canna find him," the newcomer sighed. "Ahm gonna go back, just need a break from da rains."

The priest was too wet and cold to say much, but he placed a friendly hand on the other's arm and squeezed it comfortingly.

"Ah have not been lookin' aftha him," the newcomer said, pulling his hood back to reveal a bush of deep-green hair.

"An' now mah hair is sad too," he pouted.

This almost made the priest laugh, and as he watched his friend try to get his hair back to the proud Mohawk it had been that morning he could not hold back a smile.

"Jah'ren," he comforted. "Paddo is wild still. Yah couldna control him good enough in da fight."

The hunter had just had his new pet for a short week before they were called upon to join the battle in the valley, and they were still trying to form a bond beyond Jah'ren yelling at Paddo, and Paddo trying to eat the troll.

"Ah shoulda listened to mah sista," the hunter said, still sulking. "A raptor is no good pet. Ah just want one 'cause Kor has one."

Now the priest was laughing, and it made the rain a little more bearable. The hunter turned to him, green eyes flaming with anger, but this only made him laugh harder.

"Ah shoulda known! Yah always be tryin' to be bettha than him. But Kor has had Trakkor foreva, and yah canna keep a pet for more dan a week!"

There was a sharp sound of a weapon being drawn and the priest looked at the sword that was barely touching one of his long tusks. With a small motion of a hand he had his shield up again and poked his tongue out between his lips to taunt the hunter.

"One of dese days," Jah'ren said, his rage subsiding. "Ah am gonna kick yah puny butt from here back to Durotar."

The priest smiled as his friend put away his sword again and started crawling back out through the branches.

"Ahm sure yah gonna, Tata Parnko," he laughed.

The rain had calmed down a little when Jah'ren left his friend for the second time to look for his pet. He was never angry at Ba'ka for very long however much the priest taunted him. They had grown up together, and Ba'ka, being several years older, had always seen Jah'ren as a smaller brother and looked after him like one.

More than anything Jah'ren was angry with himself at the moment. He should have known better than to send Paddo into the battle, but there had been enemies and blood and the thrill of fighting and he had forgotten to think.

Paddo was Jah'ren's second pet, after the first one had been killed, and he had decided that this was the one he was going to keep. Still young and inexperienced, Jah'ren had yet to figure out how to train or bond with a pet, and he tried doing it with the reckless enthusiasm that usually got him into trouble.

The raptor had been beside him one moment and gone the next. Jah'ren had barely had the time to give the command to attack before the wild and bloodthirsty animal had set off into the battlefield and disappeared.

"Paddo?" the hunter called silently, just because it was a comfort to hear his own voice instead of the endless drizzle of the rain upon dead bodies and bloody grass.

He was just about to give up when he saw something move behind some bushes and hurried over, his heart beating hard with new hope. Looking through the brambles he was filled with a rage that made his body shake in anger.

Paddo had not made it through the battle and was lying on the ground, green skin pierced by several arrows and one alliance lance, but the thing that infuriated Jah'ren was the troll kneeling by his dead pet.

The other troll had a skinning knife in one hand and had started cutting into the fleshy muscles on the raptor's hind legs.

Jah'ren attacked without thinking. He only knew one thing; Paddo was his pet, and nobody was going to eat him.

The other troll was taken by surprise, but still countered the attack by ducking under Jah'ren's blade and rolled around, sweeping the hunter's feet from underneath him. The struggle that followed was over in seconds as the somewhat larger troll caught Jah'ren's arms and forced the hunter down on his stomach in the mud.

"Easy, young one," a deep voice said as Jah'ren fought against the hands holding his wrists. "Ah be no ally-bastard. We be on da same side."

Jah'ren flung his head backwards and hit the other one on the chin with the hard back of his skull. This only resulted in a lot of swearwords and a knee pressing into his spine. Then the hands holding his wrists shifted and Jah'ren was even angrier when he found the other one could easily hold both his arms with one hand as the other grabbed his hair, pressing his face into the water and muddy grass.

"Mah pet," he gasped, trying to avoid filling his mouth with dirt. "Yah no eat my pet!"

"Dat's it?"

The pressure of the other's body went away and Jah'ren scrambled to his feet, burning with the shame of being weaker than anyone.

As he dried the dirt and water from his face he had the time to look the other troll over. He was as tall as Ba'ka, but much more muscular. The spear stuck in the ground beside Paddo's body also marked the stranger as a fighter rather than a spellcaster.

"Yah didna have to attack me," the troll said, a smile raising the edges of his mouth. "Ah didna kill da raptor."

With that he turned his back to the hunter and knelt down to continue his task of cutting meat from the raptor's thigh.

When Jah'ren attacked the second time the stranger merely grabbed him by one of his long tusks and held him at arms length.

"Ah thought we'd been through dis."

Jah'ren kicked out, but before his leg had the chance of connecting to the other's body he was flung to the ground again.

"Da raptor is dead," the stranger said, starting to sound annoyed. "Ah am hungry. Now he is food."

"No!" Jah'ren managed to get to his feet again, now feeling the tiredness from the battle, as well as his soaked and muddy clothes, take their toll on his strength.

He stumbled forward in blind fury, and before he knew what had happened he was lying flat on his stomach again, his hands tied behind his back while the stranger wrapped a long vine around his feet. After a while he grew tired of Jah'ren's angry shouting and gagged him too.

Jah'ren was furious and ashamed, but he could do nothing more than wriggle around in the mud. He wished that Ba'ka would come and cast all the nasty spells he could on this annoying and rather unpleasant troll, but the priest did not show up, and soon Jah'ren found himself being flung over a broad shoulder and carried away.

Half an hour later he was lying on the earthen floor of an abandoned mineshaft while the strange troll was lighting a fire. Soon the smell of smoke and fried meat filled the cave and made Jah'ren's stomach rumble.

"Yah wanna some food, young one?" the stranger asked, smiling friendly although the look in Jah'ren's eyes would have murdered him if possible.

The hunter swore behind his gag when he noticed there was a figure standing in the entrance to the mine, looking at the two of them. His heart skipped a beat as he recognized the tall, cloaked shadow of the priest.

Sure the annoying troll would get what he deserved now, Jah'ren grinned and mumbled a muffled greeting towards his friend.

"Smells good," Ba'ka said, leaning against the wall of the cave. "An' Ahm afraid dis whelp is mine."

The priest came into the cave, but to Jah'ren's disappointment he did not show any sign of preparing to fight the other troll. Instead he gave the stranger a nod and a smile.

"Yah be Za'rhin, if mah mem'ry be not playin' tricks on me."

"Aye."

While Ba'ka loosened Jah'ren's bonds the young hunter stared at the bluehaired stranger. The shame and anger he had felt for being defeated disappeared when the thought hit him that not everyone got to fight a legend and live.

"Yah be da last one of da Meri Kri?" he asked the second his gag was removed.

"Dey tell me so," Za'rhin answered, testing the meat over the fire with his knife.

And just like that all the fury ran off Jah'ren like water on a turtle _(old troll-saying)_. He had heard stories about this troll, he had even heard mother's tell their children to eat their vegetables so they could grow up and be as strong as the last of the Ocean-blood clan.

Realising he was being stared at, Za'rhin raised his head and met the green eyes of the hunter. There were things that distinguished the other from the two Darkspears; like the shorter, curled tusks, the deepblue eyes and ears that were shorter than usual on a troll. Za'rhin's hair was even longer than the priest's, and while Ba'ka kept his neatly braided Za'rhin's hung around his shoulders in thin braids and dreadlocks.

Jah'ren tried to remember some of the stories he had heard and felt like a five year old whelp meeting Vol'Jin for the first time.

"It be true dat yah can understand da murloc-talk?" he asked enthusiastic.

"It just be anotha language. Da poor murlocs. Always people say: dem be nasty little things, but sometimes dem just come to say _Hello, _an' _How yah doin'?_ An' people kill dem."

"How dey say _Hello_?" Ba'ka wondered.

The two Darkspears listened as Za'rhin made a gurgling noise in the back of his throat. To their ears it sounded like all the other words that apparently was in the murloc's language.

"It be so easy to misundastand it for da words for _Kill_, or _Go away or Ah gut yah like a fishy_," Za'rhin sighed. "So sometimes yah just have to take no chance."

"But did yah really kill dat giant shark dat terrorized Ratchet? Ah heard yah gave da head to Thrall an' told his dere'd be fish for dinnah!"

The two older trolls started to laugh and exchanged a look.

"Ah did not do it all by meself," Za'rhin grinned. "Ah had a healer. An' Ah did give Thrall da head, but Ah didna tell him to eat it."

"But can yah really walk on da waves an' ride sharks an' did yah once make a raft from turtles dat yah bound togetha with yah hair?"

There was a deep sigh from both of the other trolls and Za'rhin looked at Ba'ka with a humorous sparkle in his eyes.

"Ah liked da whelp bettha when he was gagged."

****

**Those who know me and my writings know that I make up my own Zandali-words, so here's the language notes:**

**Tata Parnko = Little brother **

**Meri Kri = Ocean blood (it's Za'rhin's clan, and yes, I think he's the last of them... Meri is inspired by both French and Finnish, and Kri is the Slovenian word for blood.)**

**Thanks for reading! **

**Warcraft belongs to Blizzard, but the stories belong to me, and Za'rhin and Jah'ren belongs in my bed. Ba'ka belongs to my husband, who is gay for his pinkhaired troll. ^^  
**


	2. Wild water

There was a thunderstorm that night, and the three trolls endured it in the comfort of their abandoned mine, sleeping in turns even though the weather was so bad there was almost no need for a guard.

After swallowing his pride a bit, Jah'ren had admitted that he was too hungry not to eat something, and took a bite of the raptor-steak. In the end he did know this was the way of life; you lived and then you died, and sooner or later you were going to be someone or some thing's dinner.

He and Ba'ka found comfort in each others company as always. They had kept each other warm by sleeping side by side since they both were whelps, and saw no point stopping just because they had grown up.

The kind priest had offered Za'rhin too a place beside them, but the last of the Ocean-blood just shook his head at the invitation and curled up against the cold mountain, long arms wrapped around his legs in an attempt to keep himself warm. Jah'ren, who had the first guard duty, watched the other troll with interest.

There was something about Za'rhin that made the young hunter tremble with excitement. He had so many questions he wanted to ask this living legend, but there was something lonely and reserved about the troll that made him stall his tongue. Ba'ka had told Za'rhin was not that much older than himself, but there was something very tired in those blue eyes, something experienced and knowing.

*

The storm had died down before morning and Za'rhin, who had the early watch, got the embers from last night to flicker into life by breathing at them. He warmed the leftover raptor on the tip of his spear and went to sit in the entrance of the cave, chewing thoughtfully and watching the mist dance.

"Yah been away from Durotar for long?" Ba'ka asked, as he sat down beside the other.

Za'rhin scratched his chin and stared out into the mist as if he was looking for something.

"Yeah. Been a long time now. Yah know what Ah say..."  
"Aye," the priest smiled. "Ah remember: Da be no one place for yah."

There was a snort from behind, followed by more sounds telling them the hunter was waking up. Ba'ka touched the bluehaired troll's arm and whispered:

"Don tell him it was Ah dat helped yah kill dat shark... Ah will neva hear da end of it."

And for a short moment Za'rhin's face broke into a friendly grin and there was a spark of joy in blue eyes.

*

The three trolls travelled away from the battleground together. Za'rhin had a small hope of finding his riding-raptor, but the fields where they had fought the day before lay still and void of life, drowning whatever hopes they had of finding anything or anyone alive.

"Dat raptor cost me a lot of gold," the bluehaired troll sighed. "Now he'll prob'bly be someone's dinner."

They reached a river at noon and knew it would be vital to cross it before nightfall. On the other side waited the safeness of a Horde-controlled area, and none of them wanted to be found by Alliance patrols.

"How da water?" Ba'ka asked as Jah'ren knelt down on the bank and put a hand in the water.

The young hunter shuddered and turned to the others:

"Freezing. We have to find some way 'round."

The heavy storm the night before had caused the river to run fast and furious, and the waters were filled with branches and debris.

Za'rhin gazed thoughtfully over the water a while before he started to take his armour off.

"Yah canna swim across," Ba'ka told him. "It be too cold and wild today. We find a bridge."

"Dar be no bridge for many many miles. We canna reach it today," the answer came. "Dar be only one way across."

The two others took a long look at the tempestuous waters before they too began stripping off their armour.

"We'll be carried downstream, but we try to keep togetha," Za'rhin told them when they were ready.

With their equipment and weapons tied to their backs the three trolls entered the water like blue turtles. The water took the breath out of them for a moment, and soon muscles were starting to numb.

All three of them were excellent swimmers, having been raised by the sea, but they knew they had to hurry across if they were going to make it before their bodies gave in to the cold.

They were almost halfway across the river when the two oldest lost sight of Jah'ren.

Za'rhin managed to climb up on a rock and scouted the waters around them. At the base of the stone protruding from the water, Ba'ka was clinging to it, his face a mask of worry.

"Yah seein' him?" He shouted over the roar of the waters.

Za'rhin shook his head without once taking his eyes from the place where he had last seen the hunter.

"Dar!" he shouted pointing at something flowing past.

They both strained their eyes to see, but it was hard to determine whether or not the tuft of something soaked and green really could be the hunter.

In the end they had to give up the safeness of the rock and continue swimming towards the shore.

"Mah Tata Parnko," Ba'ka gasped as Za'rhin helped him out of the water and onto a small sandbank.

They were both shaking with cold and gasping for air, but there was no time to rest.

"We'll find him," Za'rhin comforted. "He be strong and full of energy."

Hands and feet numb and aching, they dressed in a hurry before running downwards along the river, eyes scouring the waters.

"His sista tell me if Ah eva loose him, she kick me in da nuts!" Ba'ka wheezed, not knowing what would be worse; the kick itself, or the look he would get from Hetar if he had to tell her the little brother she doted on had drowned.

Suddenly the bluehaired troll in front of him shouted and sprinted down to where a couple of rocks stood up from the frothing river. As Za'rhin jumped into the water, the priest realised what he had seen; a blue arm desperately clinging to the rocks.

In seconds Za'rhin had pulled the smaller and lighter troll to the surface and stared dragging him to the shore where Ba'ka waited, worried and happy at the same time.

"He be okey?" he asked when the two others reached the bank.

Jah'ren was too weak to stand, but as he knelt down, panting and spitting water, they both knew he would be fine.

"Yah scare me dar, Jah'ren," Ba'ka exclaimed, grabbing the hunter and squeezing him.

"Let go..." the boy gasped, still trying to get his breath back.

Filled with relief the priest only hugged his friend even tighter.

"Let go!" Jah'ren wheezed. "Ah canna breathe!"

*****

**Thank you for reading. **

**I am off to plan my wedding to a pirate! ^^**


	3. Training

In a green glen in the forest by the riverside Ba'ka was breathing new life in the embers of last night's campfire. The flames had warmed them after the cold swim, and now they were feeling ready to take on whatever life would throw at them.

Jah'ren was watching Za'rhin as he stretched, trying to awaken stiff limbs after the exhausted sleep they all had experienced at night.

"Ah wanna fight yah," the young hunter suddenly exclaimed, springing to his feet.

The older troll looked at him with an amused smile on his lips before he pulled a leathercord from his pocket and started tying his waistlong braids and dreads into a tail at his neck.

"Sure," Za'rhin grinned, exchanging a smile with Ba'ka.

The priest laughed silently as he watched his young friend attack with all the reckless vigour of youth. Jah'ren was fast, but his random punches and kicks still did not even touch the opponent.

Za'rhin was dodging, legs and arms swirling, almost like he was dancing. At one time he leapt backwards, landing on one hand, and spun back onto his feet. He moved like he was dancing to some primal rhythm from somewhere inside. Watching him made Ba'ka smile; this was old Zandali fighting, he imagined he could feel the presence of their ancestors in the warrior's every movement.

In the end Jah'ren stopped to catch his breath and growled frustrated.

"Will yah teach me dat?" he asked as the bluehaired troll patted his shoulder comfortingly.

"Ah will. An' den yah be true Zandali."

*

Za'rhin spent two months in the others' company, and he used the time well. Every day at dawn he and Jah'ren started their training, and the warrior did not let the young hunter's complains about tired muscles and sore spots bother him. He was a merciless trainer and made it clear that complaints only led to him attacking faster and his hits getting harder.

Ba'ka spent his time fishing in the lake they had camped by and smiled relieved each time he reminded himself that he was happy to be a spellcaster.

"Why yah not be trainin' with us?" Jah'ren asked him sulkily.

"Before mah enemy get close to me, Jah'ren, dey have runned around in fear, been wounded by mah spells and when dey come close dey will find mah shield up an' dat Ah know how to handle a long staff."

Jah'ren sighed by this answer and leaned forward towards his adopted older brother, whispering:

"Ah wish Ah was a priest too. Dat crazy warrior is gonna kill me. Ah be blue all over!"

Ba'ka was just about to point out that his friend actually had been blue all over since birth, but he never got further than opening his mouth before Za'rhin grabbed the hunter by the arm and dragged him back into training.

*

One evening after they had eaten their dinner the three friends sat around the fire thinking about the past and all they had left behind.

"How is dat crazy wo'man of yours?" Za'rhin asked the priest, who almost chocked on a piece of the black root he was chewing.

"She be good. She be good," Ba'ka hurried to say. "But she no be mah wo'man."

Jah'ren and Za'rhin exchanged a look and the hunter rolled his eyes and grinned.

"Ba'ka is too dumb," he told the warrior. "He neva tell mah sista he love her, an' now she have gone to be trained in Orgrimmar. An' Ah hear dat rogue-trainer is a very charmin' troll."

Speaking of his family always made Jah'ren homesick and he stared into the flames of the campfire, trying to imagine his sister's red braids and kind face. He smiled at the memory of Hetar and Ba'ka saying goodbye when she had left.

"So... Ah be seein' yah around den," Ba'ka had said, not thinking for a moment that the tears in Hetar's eyes had been for him more than for the her brother.

They had grown up like siblings, Jah'ren, Ba'ka and Hetar, plus some of the whelps from the Fogo Juba clan. But at some point it had dawned on the priest that the adoration and love he held for the redhaired rogue was much stronger than the love between brother and sister. He had just never gotten as far as telling her that holding her hand made his heart beat more than any wardrum.

In silent remembrance the three trolls sat, each chewing on a piece of the black root that Za'rhin was so good at finding. In the end Jah'ren could not be still any longer. He jumped to his feet and threw a tuft of grass in the bluehaired warrior's face.

"Time for trainin'!" he shouted, and grinned when Za'rhin answered to the challenge by grabbing a long stick they used for a training-spear.

Ba'ka watched them twist and twirl with a sad smile on his lips. He was thinking of a couple of kind eyes and slim lips around small tusks. Therefore he was much surprised when suddenly Za'rhin crashed into his back. The warrior gasped slightly and shook his head to stop the ringing from the heavy blow he had received.

"Very good, Tata Parnko," Za'rhin grinned. "Very good. Let me see if yah can do dat again."

*

The next morning they broke camp and rode together for a good while until they reached a fork in the road that would lead the two Darkspears homewards and the Ocean-blood towards his next battle.

"Keep yah head on yah shoulders, Jah'ren," the warrior laughed, squeezing the young hunter's hand.

Then he turned to Ba'ka with eyes shining from laughter.

"An' yah, mah old friend, yah must tell her an' make her yours."

The priest smiled at this and grabbed the hand that was offered him.

"Ah will be pleased to see yah again, Za. Until then Ah'll pray to the Loa for yah."

Za'rhin turned away from them, blue dreads and braids dancing around his shoulders and hurried down the road before they noticed the sorrow in his eyes. After some meters he stopped.

"Ba'ka!" he shouted over his shoulder. "Ah neva did thank yah for helpin' with dat giant shark!"

As he walked on he could hear the excited voice of Jah'ren from behind:

"Tell me! Yah really did? Ba'ka! Tell me!"

****

**Not the best chapter. I know. But there's somthing brewing. Just go read the next one...**

**And thanks for reading! Za'rhin has promised to come train anyone who doesn't ^^  
**


	4. Rage

Some years passed, until Za'rhin was one day riding through the jungle of Strangelthorn Vale. He had been commissioned by a man in Booty Bay to find a very rare type of plant, and had been searching all morning. He started to feel the need to find shelter from the scorching midday sun, but as he dismounted his raptor reacted to something in the air.

"What?" he asked the animal out loud, before he let his mount lead him through some bushes.

There was a black panther lying between the trees, its fur covered in blood and cuts.

"It be a dead panther only," the warrior snorted, stroking the raptor's flank. "Nothin' to worry..."

And then he felt the smell. For a moment he just stood frozen, before he started scouring the ground for something. Finding what he was looking for he knelt down and when he lifted his eyes from the ground there was a look in them that would have made the most skilled paladin think twice about going near.

Za'rhin was in the saddle with a jump and let the raptor run along the trail freely, causing him to have to duck under branches and cling to the reins during the wild ride. His heart was pounding hard with fear, and his breath was shallow even though it was the raptor doing the running.

The trail led him to a small shack not far from a cliff overseeing the ocean. Leaving his mount behind he crawled through bushes and undergrowth without making a sound, and soon his worst suspicions were confirmed.

In front of the shack there was a huge pole rising from the ground. It was coloured a dirty brown from old blood and to Za'rhin's keen senses the entire clearing around the shack smelled of fear and death.

"Hunters," the warrior growled between his teeth.

He had heard rumours that there were groups of them spread around the forest, hunting solitary trolls for their beads and tusks, but had not yet had the displeasure of confirming the rumours himself. Trying not to look at the troll bound to the pole, he circled around the clearing scouting what he knew would soon be a battleground for him.

He forced his eyes away from the figure in front of the shack time after time, knowing he would have to keep his head clear and his rage controlled if he was going to fight the men who's voices drifted out to him through the open doorway of the shack.

Squinting through a crack in the boards at the back of the cabin told him there were five men in there, three by a table, one at the stove frying something, and one on a mattress, his bandaged body filling Za'rhin with a moment's pride; they had not escaped unharmed.

'

The men were waiting for breakfast. They had had a long night and yawned as they planned the day ahead.

"We have enough for taking a trip into town today," one nodded happily.

He was sitting with his back to the door and thus never knew what happened before he was lifted off the ground, the tip of a spear protruding from his chest.

The other men drew their weapons, but hesitated slightly. The troll in the doorway was armoured and as they watched him the white around the blue orbs of his irises turned a burning red.

'

Za'rhin let the rage take over. He threw aside the dead man before kicking one of the men by the table into the one by the stove. That left him a single man to fight for the next moment, and soon the second of the hunters was on the floor, blood oozing from his throat.

The chef screamed in pain as the man who was pushed into him caused him to put one hand on the frying pan, but did not have time to contemplate the pain as he was grabbed by the hair and his face slammed into the sizzling pan. A nauseating smell of burnt flesh and hair immediately filled the air as Za'rhin turned to the last standing man.

The troll-hunter lashed out with his sword only to find the troll was not where he had been a second ago. A muscular leg connected with his head and sent him spinning into the wall, making half the shack crumble as the boards keeping it up fell away. A large hand grabbed the man before he could recuperate and dragged his body through the debris of the hut just to slam his head against one of the rocks on the outside.

Za'rhin did not stop until the troll-hunter's head was a gory mess. Then he re-entered the shack, this time dragging the scorched remains of the chef out. The man was still alive, but not concious enough to even fight the troll.

The fall from the cliff ought to kill the man, but if it did not then the rocks in the water below could certainly do the job, or the frenzied sharks flocking to the cliff side when they smelled fresh blood.

The last man was the one lying bandaged and fevered in bed. As Za'rhin knelt down beside him he opened his eyes and looked up at the troll with fear evident in his gaze.

"Please," he begged. "Mercy! Don't kill me."

Without a word, Za'rhin picked up a skinning knife that had fallen on the floor during the previous struggle. He buried the blade of the knife in the man's stomach before leaving the crumbling remains of the shack.

"Don't leave me like this," the man gasped. "I'll bleed to death!"

Za'rhin did understand his words, and if he had been bothered he would have told the man that bleeding to death was much better than what he could have done, but at the moment the rage was subsiding and there were more important things at hand.

He knelt before the troll at the pole, supporting the limp body against his shoulder while he loosened the chains that held him. Even expecting the worst he was shocked as he lifted the young troll's head carefully with shivering hands.

The left eye of the troll was swollen and glued shut by all the blood in it and the face Za'rhin knew well was beaten and bruised, but the worst part was the gaps at each side of the lips where his tusks should have been. It had obviously bled a lot, and the dried cakes of blood told the warrior it had been done some time ago. The panther he had found had been killed the day before, probably late in the evening, and Za'rhin shuddered with the thought that they had kept the torture going all through the night.

As there was a short gasp from the weak body in his arms, the warrior stroked the green hair comfortingly and whispered:

"Ah got yah, Tata Parnko. Don yah worry. Ah got yah."

*****

**For those who know Jah'ren and his story; this is how it happened. I always knew Za'rhin was the one saving him, but I just had to get it down on paper. **

**And I don't know if there'll be any more chapters before the wedding... I am so busy these days. At least I'll convince my boys to come to my bachelor-party... ;D**


	5. Help in the jungle

Za'rhin held the boy tightly in his arms while he rode through the jungle. It was passed midday, the sun was merciless and the air humid; leaving a fine dew upon blue skin.

Jah'ren was breathing in uneven gasps and his body shivered with fever, making the warrior ride even faster in an attempt to get his young friend to safety.

Za'rhin wanted to get to Booty Bay where he knew he could find a healer, but the young hunter's condition made him reconsider and try to find some shade instead. He lifted Jah'ren down from the raptor as they found some chill in the shade of an old troll ruin. Kneeling beside the hunter he uncorked his water flask and tried pouring a little of the fluid into Jah'ren's mouth, but the water did little else than run out again between blooded lips.

"Yah don look good, mah friend," Za'rhin whispered, frowning as he held the hunter's head in both hands. "Ah wish Ah knew yah'd be alright."

He wrapped his cape around the trembling body and sat down with his head in his hands.

"What do Ah do?" he asked himself, rubbing his temples. Then he turned his eyes towards the sky, whispering desperately: "Great Loa of the jungle. Help me!"

He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again the god had replied. The prayer was answered by a shout from within the forest:

"Katari! Were yah be goin'?"

A white tiger broke through the bushes in front of Za'rhin and stared at the warrior, interest in its green eyes. Then it sniffed Jah'ren's foot and licked the blue toes carefully.

Za'rhin did not even reach for his spear when the branches parted again and revealed a redhaired troll.

Two pairs of eyes locked for a moment before the newcomer spotted the body beside the warrior.

"Jah'ren!" he exclaimed, pushing the tiger out of the way. "Parnko!"

*

Za'rhin followed the tall troll who had presented himself as Jandi through the jungle to where a cabin stood between bushes and trees, not too far from where the jungle met the ocean. As he saw the cabin Za'rhin sent a small thanks to the Loa who had heard him and found help. The warrior had heard talk of Jandi and his twin brother, Kor'alli, from Ba'ka and Jah'ren when he travelled with them.

"Lay him on mah bed," Jandi said, pointing at a mat on the floor covered with old blankets.

When Za'rhin had done so he watched the other troll fumble as he tried to light a fire in the rusty stove that functioned as kitchen, but trembling fingers dropped the matches.

"Was dem homans?" Jandi asked, pressing his warm forehead against the cold metal of the stove.

"Troll-hunters."

The redhaired troll slammed a fist into the floor and swore under his breath, before he picked up the matches and, this time, successfully lit one.

"Dey be dead," Za'rhin said, thinking it might be a comfort. "Dey died in pain."

Jandi nodded, as if to say that was what he wanted to know, and turned to his friend laying on the bed.

"We wash him," he told the warrior. "An' den Ah ride for help. Ah know da fastest way to da Bay."

Jah'ren moaned in pain as the two, as carefully as they could, washed his face and body. His clothes were so caked with blood and mud that Za'rhin drew his knife and cut them off him. There were bruises; purple on the young hunter's blue skin, and cuts; now closed due to the trolls' rapid healing, but several of them were still swollen and seemed infected.

After they had done the roughest work, Jandi stood up and sighed.

"Ah leave mah Parnko in yah care, Ocean Blood. Dar be food," he pointed to a piece of meat hung up in a corner. "Water in da barrel outside. Ah'll ride as fast as Ah can. Do what yah can for Jah'ren."

Za'rhin could not do anything but nod, he was tired and the knowledge that the wounds on his young friend were very serious weighted heavy on him.

Jandi had not yet gotten his own mount, but he rode Za'rhin's raptor as he made his way towards Booty Bay. The jungle's everchanging weather had turned even warmed and the humidity in the air told the hunter it would be just minutes before the sky opened. He knew the jungle enough to feel the weather now, and he loved the rain that left the forest scrubbed clean, but now he prayed for it to wait.

He had barely reached the path that eventually would lead him to the harbour when the first drops of water made their way down through the canopy. In few minutes the rain was so heavy he could hardly see anything at all. Heavy raindrops slammed into the dry dust on the ground; slowly, but surely turning it to mud.

*

Za'rhin heard the rain banging on the roof, but Jandi had built his cabin well and inside it was dry and snug. The warrior went to open the door, and looked at the tiger sitting outside where it had been told to keep watch.

"Yah wanna come in?" he asked. "Yah can keep watch tru' the window."

Katari seemed to consider this. Then the tiger shook the water from its pelt and crept through the doorway.

Za'rhin watched it take up position by the cracked glasspane that served as a window before he turned back to the task at hand.

"Ahm sorry 'bout dis, Tata Parnko. But Ah need to hurt yah."

One of Jah'ren's shoulders had been dislocated when he was chained up, and the hunter screamed in agony as his friend forced it back into place.

"Sorry... Ahm sorry," Za'rhin whispered, stroking the green hair comfortingly.

Then he placed his knife in the fire and let it lay there while he prepared bandages. Swallowing hard, he grabbed the knife and put his weight on the boy's body to keep him from tossing around. His hands shook as he gently cut the bloody scab covering one of the more infectious-looking wounds.

"Ah got yah, Jah'ren. Don worry. We get yah fixed."

He could heard how his voice trembled, but continued to whisper softly as he held the struggling body fast and dried away the puss and blood oozing from the wound.

"Ah be sorry Ah did not find yah faster, Tata Parnko..."

As he cut open the next of the worst wounds, Jah'ren's hand suddenly grabbed his wrist and held on tightly for a second before the hunter sunk back into unconsciousness.

*

The night fell. Za'rhin sat beside the mat, holding on to one of Jah'ren's hands. He had bandaged the hunter as best he could with what he had. There were just so many cuts that needed healing. Even his wrists had been wrapped in soft cloth to cover the sore, raw skin where the chains had left their bite in Jah'ren's arms.

Katari was still sitting by the window, looking about to fall asleep. In the soft darkness of the cabin the only sound was Za'rhin humming to himself, trying not to sleep. The still heavy rain almost drowned out his voice, but if anyone had been listening they would have been surprised to hear the melodies of elf-songs.

It was past midnight before there was a sound outside which roused Katari. As the door opened, Za'rhin was ready to great Jandi with relief, but instead grabbed for his spear, taking care not to make too much sound. The troll in the doorway could very well have passed for the redhaired hunter, but there was something amiss.

"Jandi?" a stranger's voice asked as the lamp by the door was lit.

It was Jandi's face beneath the wet bush of fire-red hair, only more hard, more scarred. Za'rhin relaxed his grip on the spear and let Jandi's twin take in the scene before him.

"Ah be Za'rhin," he said. "Jandi has gone to Booty Bay to get help for Jah'ren."

Katari rubbed against Kor'alli and purred deep as he patted the tiger's head, paying no attention to anything else than the body on the mat.

"Jandi should be back soon," the warrior told him, still getting no answer.

"Homans?" Kor'alli asked eventually.

Za'rhin barely nodded before the troll was outside again, shouting for his pet.

"Kor'alli!" the warrior yelled, running out in the rain after the young troll. "Where yah be goin'?"

The flamecoloured hair danced, wet and tangled, around his head when Kor'alli turned, eyes burning with fury. His face was as hard as stone, lips curled back in a snarl.

"Kill," he growled. "Ahm gonna kill some homans."

"Dey be dead."

"Ah kill some other," the hunter turned to the forest again, shouting: "Trakkor! We be huntin' homans, let dat squirrel be!"

"Don go," Za'rhin pleaded. "Da be no point in killin' anyone now. Jah'ren need yah here. Yah be his friend."

There was a dangerous spark in Kor'alli's eyes when he answered:

"Ah be him Parnko!"

"Ahm not lettin' yah go," Za'rhin sighed, wondering if he ever was so hard-headed and stubborn as young.

"Den stop me," Kor'alli spat, turning to go.

As Za'rhin grabbed his shoulder, the hunter twisted, but he had underestimated the older troll's strength and swore in Zandali as he was pressed into the mud and wet grass. Struggling against Za'rhin's arms he tried clawing and biting, but now the warrior had had enough and held him fast with all the force in his body.

Za'rhin did not let go until Jandi came rushing to drag them from each other.

"Dat be mah brotha!" he told Za'rhin urgently. "Kor! Wat yah be doin'?"

They were both ushered into the cabin where a elder human priest was kneeling beside Jah'ren.

"A homan?" Kor'alli barked. "Yah brought a homan, Jandi?"

His brother grabbed the muddy troll by the shoulders and without a word he stroked his tusks against the other's cheek, leaving a line on Kor'alli's dirty face.

"Sorry," Kor'alli sighed, the fury draining away, and sat down on one of the two chairs in the room.

Za'rhin places a hand on his shoulder and slumped down on the floor by the door, exhausted.

The human priest turned his head and looked at the three worried faces behind him.

"I think," he smiled. "That you should all get some sleep. It seems your friend condition is not so bad as I first though. I believe he will survive."

***

**Thanks for reading ^^**

**This story is coming to an end, but I needed some softness :D although Za'rhin isn't a very good or very careful nurse. But he's seen battles enough to know what to do with wounds. **

**Kor'alli and Jandi, and off course the fluffy Katari and naughty Trakkor belongs to the darlin' KraeHi, who lends them to me for spanking ;D  
**


	6. Leaving the past behind

Jah'ren sat up, stretching and moaned as he felt his body ache. There were bandages, that was the first thing he noticed, and he wondered what could have happened to leave him this wounded.

It was dark wherever he was, but a dawning day threw a hazy light through a window, and in minutes his eyes were adapting and he could see a little of his surroundings. There were someone sleeping beside him on either side, curled up against his body, as if they had been keeping him warm and safe.

His ears picked up the rhythm of their breaths and he did not need to see their faces to know who it was. Lying down again he lifted a hand to his mouth, which hurt.

"No," he moaned as his fingers found the edges of his mouth, feeling what was not there.

His body shook with a sob and suddenly there was a hand that took his.

"Parnko," a kind voice whispered by his ear. "Don worry. Yah be okey."

"Jandi!" Jah'ren clung to the hand that held his.

"Yah be awake," another voice said, sounding like it had been very worried.

"Kor'alli." Jah'ren turned and smiled towards the flaming mohawk which was all he could see because his eyes were filled with tears.

Then he touched his head, finding his hair was gone too. The huge green mohawk he had been so proud of was cut down to just tufts of hair.

"Yah hair will grow back," Jandi comforted, lighting a lamp even though the sun now was rising outside the cabin.

"But not mah tusks," Jah'ren cried, unable to stop touching the strange gaps between his lips.

Kor'alli sat up and let his adopted brother lean against his shoulder until the sobbing died away.

"How yah find me?" Jah'ren asked them.

The twins explained what Za'rhin had told them, about the troll-hunters, how they died, and then how the warrior had been so lucky as to find Jandi.

"Dat's two weeks ago," Kor'alli grinned. "Yah've been havin' a bad fever an' we worry yah never was gonna wake up."

"Za'rhin?" Jah'ren looked around the cabin in case his friend and mentor was sleeping somewhere in the room.

"Nah," Jandi shook his head. "He got orders from da Warchief himself four days ago now. He tell us he know yah will be okey an' left yah in our care."

This saddened Jah'ren even more. He had missed the warrior a lot lately, because the older troll had been like a father or an older brother to him.

"Yah have to call me Jah'fon now..." he told the twins sulkily.

Then he explained how he had fought with his father, and there had been said things that could not be unsaid. The two did not seem surprised, and when Jah'ren had finished his tale Jandi nodded.

"We know. Hetar sent us a lettha sayin' what happen. Da Sre Kel be not good now. Da whole tribe be confused an' scared. Yah fatha has declared yah a traitor an' Hetar say the young ones no be happy about dis, dey still want yah be da chief."  
"Ah be not goin' back," Jah'ren told them.

"We know. Yah sistha say we need to look for yah, she want to know where yah be."

"Have yah told her?"  
"Nah." Jandi shrugged. "Ah feel we wait for yah to wake. She also tell us to look for Ba'ka, he be somewhere north an' she want him to come home."

Jah'ren was tired and his head hurt. He laid down again and sighed heavily.

Even if the young trolls in the tribe would have supported him as chief he could not go back now. Without his tusks he could not lead. They had been his pride. To let someone take your tusks was like letting them take your life, you were better off dead.

'

After spending another day in the care of the Fogo Juba twins, Jah'ren had decided what to do.

"Ah be goin' north. Ah think Ah know where Ba'ka be, an' him always think bettha than me."

"Za'rhin tell us yah would be doin' dat," Kor'alli grinned. "Dat's why he got yah dat ridin' raptor."  
He helped Jah'ren to the door to see, and there, outside on the little grassy patch in front of Jandi's cabin there was a big green riding raptor, at the moment it was busy filling its stomach with the dead ape Katari and Trakkor had hunted down.

"Dat's for me?" Jah'ren asked, smiling for the first time since he woke up.

"Yeah, and Za'rhin leave somethin' else for yah too."

Kor'alli found the carefully wrapped package the warrior had told them to give Jah'ren. As Jah'ren opened it tears started flowing down his cheeks again.

The swords were slim and curved, worn with use, but obviously cared for and kept sharp.

"He always like him spear best," Jah'ren mumbled through the wall of emotions filling him. "Ah one day ask him: Why yah have da swords? Yah always like yah spear. An' he tell me da swords is important. It be one for da clear sky," he lifted one of the swords, watching how the light was reflected on the steel-blue blade. "It be for da good inside yah, he say. An' den one for da fight, one for da battle." The other sword was forged from something darker, a deep blue hue, mixed with lines of crimson which ran along the blade. "He say it be for da bloodlust in us. Blood in da water. He love him swords."

"He say it was da last blades of the Meri Kri."  
"Yeah," Jah'ren wiped a tear from his cheek and held up both swords. "It be da swords of da Ocean Blood. He say he neva wanna loose dem."

Jandi smiled and nodded. He was frying sausages, which Kor'alli had bought them some days before in Booty Bay so they could celebrate when Jah'ren woke.

"He tell us: Ah feel old an' Ah will neva have anyone dat can carry mah blood an' mah swords, but Jah be mah Tata Parnko."

Kor'alli followed Jah'ren as he left the hut and went outside to stand in the sunshine. Jah'ren smiled as he moved the swords slowly through the air, winching as old wounds and stiff muscles complained. He still remembered training with these swords, how Za'rhin had laughed and laughed as the young troll attacked with both swords at once.

"_Like dis, Tata," _he heard the voice of his friend in the back of his mind. _"First yah use yah good,"_ the steel-blue blade spun, "_den yah turn, use da force from the blade, follow it, and let the blood follow_." The other sword swished, cutting the air with a thin sound. _"An' yah dance..." _

_'  
_

That evening the three brothers said goodbye. Jah'ren would leave in the morning and nobody was trying to stop him, even though another week of rest would have been best for his body.

The twins and their friend spent the evening in the big wooden tub behind Jandi's cabin. The hot water was slowly drawing tension out of Jah'ren's body and he laughed as Kor'alli found a cloth and soap to wash him.

"Ahm no a cripple," he told the redhead, grabbing a tusk teasingly and shaking Kor'alli's head a bit.

"Ah know, Parnko." Kor'alli was grinning happily and stroked the soapy cloth over Jah'ren's scalp and short hair. "Dis be just like we be whelps again."

Jandi jumped into the tub, splashing water on the other two. In one hand he held a bottle and the other held a piece of cloth.

"Ah got somethin' nice," he laughed, opening the cloth for the other's to see.

"Black stick!" Jah'ren clapped his hands with enthusiasm. "Ah havn't had black stick for a long time."

As the night progressed the bottle was emptied and much black stick had been chewed. The three young hunters laughed and fought and talked until the moon stood high on the black, velvet sky.

"One last song," Jandi told the other two as they tried keeping him from going to bed. "Just one."

"Da one about bloodelfsies an' why deir women is so angry!" Kor'alli shook with laughter as he tried remembering the lyrics.

Jah'ren suddenly stood up, water cascading down his naked body.

"Ah have one!" He declared. "Ah learn it to yah! Once Ah meet dis troll, name is Fllawen. Oh, him a crazy one! Not all troll, but he be okey. Him be okey."

The twins waited patiently while Jah'ren mumbled and hummed, trying to find back to the song.

"Oh, yeah!" He declared when he finally had remembered it all. "It's like dis: Ah kill two dwarfs in the morning,"

The twins burst out laughing and clapped their hands.

"Ah kill two dwarfs at night," Jah'ren sang, grinning like the missing tusks and hair was already forgotten. "Ah kill two dwarfs in da afternoon, an' den Ah feel all right!"

They sang it together some times before Jah'ren started the second verse:

"Ah kill two dwarfs in time of peace, and two in time of war. Ah kill two dwarfs, before Ah kill two dwarfs, an' den Ah kill two more!"

Jah'ren and Kor'alli sang loud and false, but their faces were smiling and there was the haziness in their eyes that indicated they probably had eaten too much of the black stick.

"Dat's a bad song if da dwarfs hear yah," Jandi laughed.

"AH KILL TWO DWARFS BEFORE AH KILL TWO DWARFS AN' DEN AH KILL SOME MORE!" Jah'ren and Kor'alli shouted, Jah'ren grabbing his friend by the mohawk and pushed his head under water.

"Yah be crazy," Jandi told them as he threw a wet piece of cloth at the two, fighting like a couple of lion-whelps. "Yah both be crazy!"

********************

**And thus it ends. That is the last chapter of this story. But if I know me I won't be able to keep away from my ragged band of trolls forever!**

Za'rhin actually gave away his swords, I was surprised at this, but he told me it meant a lot to be able to give them away to someone he loved like a brother. The sad thing is that Jah'ren never sees him again alive.

So, that aaaamaaazing song they're singing is not my work! It is written by Nicebutdemonic at Deviantart. It is also her troll, Fllawen, who teaches the song to Jah. 

**I hope you all have been enjoying the story and that you'll follow the other stories I'm working on.**

**Thanks for reading ^^**


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